t her there, not to welcome and invite her in, but
to warn her out! He lowered his head, opened his beak, and bowed to her,
looking very wicked indeed. It was plain that he was "not receiving"
that morning. But Virginia had come to call, and call she would. Nothing
daunted by his coolness, she hopped in. The robin was amazed; then
declared war in his peculiar way,--first a hop of six inches, with
wings spread, then a savage clatter of the bill. His guest met this
demonstration quite calmly. She lowered her head, to defend herself if
necessary, but made no other movement. Her calmness filled the robin
with horror; he fled the cage. Then she went all over it, and satisfied
herself that it was much like her own, only the food-dish was filled
with some uneatable black stuff, instead of the vegetarian food she
preferred. She soon departed.

Meanwhile the cardinal was wasting his time over the window problem,
touching the glass with his beak, flying up a few inches before it,
gently tapping the pane as he went. It was two or three days before he
made up his mind he could not get through. After that he was as
indifferent to the outside as any bird in the room, and turned his
attention once more to Virginia. Whenever they were in their cages, with
the door open between, he assumed the lord-and-mastership of the two; he
drove her away from her own food-cups, usurped her perch and her cage,
and made himself disagreeable generally. Finally, one day when she was
sitting quietly on the upper perch of his deserted cage, he came into
the same cage, and, resting on the low perch close to the door, his tail
hanging outside, began a low call, a curious sort of "e-up," with a
jerk on the second syllable. Though a common enough sound for a
cardinal, this plainly meant more than was apparent to human spectators.
Virginia at once grew uneasy, hopped across the upper perches, and when
her nervousness became too great dashed down past him, though he was
partly in the doorway, and into her own cage, where she resumed her
restless jumps. He was not pleased with her reception of his attentions;
he sat a long time in that attitude, perfectly still, perhaps meditating
what step he should take next, glancing at her meanwhile over his
shoulder, but not stirring a feather. Time passed, and he came to a
decision of some sort, which was shown by a change of position. He
turned around, and took his seat on the corresponding perch in her cage,
just before